One of the dictionary definitions of epoch is, “the beginning of a distinctive period in the history of someone or something…” Thus, it is fitting that the track Epoch falls here, for this begins the outward journey of The Long Night, The struggle within, to be formless and to take shape, seeking silence with a mantra of screaming, listening with intention to the mute prophet within, heeding their council as the words of understanding overwhelm and clutter the empty space therein…. and when that din finally subsides, and all is dark, all is silent save the waiting space… so begins the Epoch, the distinctive moment when everything from that point forward can be measured against this sliver of insight…. this moment of clarity, just before we drown in the inundation, the flood of distinctions.
There is no way other than forward, there is no choice but forward, there is nothing but the herald of all the things to come, bristling like an angry rose bush, full of thorns but innately tempting in sight and scent…. forward. And thus forward our journey takes us.
Bearing witness to the the possibilities that are so many, so rich, like a heavy sauce over a perfectly prepared dish, the ideas trying to escape like the steam from the surface fissures…. that is magic, and madness, and majesty…. And so we mark this demarcation in our time, in our being, in our desire… this distinctive period that carries us back to the Yang, You can feel the churning of activity, impatient, just below the surface, seething with creativity and the overwhelming desire to fill the void, the empty space we took such care in making formless. A desire to forge shape, to pound the metal into submission, to bring the heat fanned by the bellows to bear on the ideas that vie for position, making them pliant, into something it was, and is not.
The possibilities unfold like a map to an ancient treasure, the first self, now without form, but hungry to take shape, roars its existence into being, reverberating across the vistas of the mind, with furnace fires fed by the soul of that which lies within. Essence incorporate, giving shape through its heat and definition through its light, through understanding without trying…. and we see…
We see the great seas rise up, on fire, the night suddenly alive with flame, growing, revealing, watching shadows take quick uneasy steps back toward the solace of darkness, and the light grows…. The air grows dry…. the earth cracks, fissures open, the essence escapes, into the world, into the outer darkness, into the great outer void… into the light made from the searing fire of formless pregnant possibility. Just at that moment of realization, you behold the essence of all this drama… It is balance, one helps the other, not competes with, not challenges, nor opposes. They complete the other, they aid the other, they contain all possibility… together…. and in the soft fog that hangs across the scene after the violence of corporeal communion, shapes of that which is beyond hint of another place, a new way, that has always been there… And thus the Epoch….